


Helpful

by queenhomeslice



Series: Promnis One-Shots [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, Promnis - Freeform, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Ignis has to work late one night, and comes home to Noct's apartment being in much better shape than he expected.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: Promnis One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840786
Comments: 20
Kudos: 106





	Helpful

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> ______  
> I have no idea where this came from? I typed this all in one sitting, so uh. Enjoy I guess.

Ignis sighs, wearily rolling his neck as he slowly walks from the Citadel to his car in the back parking lot. He glances at his watch—nine pm. He was expected at Noct’s place nearly three hours ago, but huffy nobles and stubborn councilors have cost him precious cooking and cleaning time at the prince’s apartment, plus time to debrief Noctis on the new oil and gas pipeline project that’s planned for just outside of Insomnia. He does deep breathing exercises as he peels out onto the highway, only slightly driving above the speed limit, and, okay, _maybe_ he did a rolling stop through the last intersection before arriving at Noct’s apartment complex—whatever, he’ll deal with that fallout later, if there is any. 

Ignis takes heavy steps across the parking garage and into the elevator, cumbersome messenger bag stuffed full of documents and his laptop weighing on his shoulder. He closes his eyes and attempts to practice some more deep meditative breathing on the ride up, feeling marginally calmer as the elevator dings the 25th floor. Ignis takes his time walking down the hall, bracing himself for the inevitable—living space completely trashed, cabinets and fridge no doubt bare, or at the least, full of unhealthy junk food and snacks. Ignis hopes that there’s at least one grocery store open late willing to do delivery for his royal Highness. Ignis sighs again, trying to quell the inevitable frustration that’s rising in him at the lazy habits of his prince, and digs out his keys. 

Ignis steps inside Noct’s apartment, and the first thing that greets him is the _smell_ —it's _clean,_ the sharp scent of eucalyptus and mint candles burning on the coffee table, and underneath that, the fresh scent of organic cleaning products he keeps stocked under the kitchen sink. Ignis steps out of his shoes and wanders inside, treading carefully. The tv is on, some cheesy sci-fi film playing in the background, volume low. Noctis is passed out on the couch, covered with his weighted blanket. Ignis drops his heavy messenger back into the adjacent armchair and studies the living room. The large entertainment center looks dusted and neatly arranged, games in order by console type, newest to oldest, Books and comics are stacked artfully on the coffee table, with the cluster of candles burning nearby. The large black rug looks freshly vacuumed, judging by the parallel lines in the shaggy fabric. Ignis doesn’t wake Noctis, instead moving slowly through the rest of the space, noting the newly-mopped hardwood floors and the rumbling of the stacked washer and dryer off to the side of the kitchen. He hears music and puttering around—had Gladio come to his aid? He peeks his head inside of Noct’s bedroom, surprised to be greeted with the same fresh scent, noting the stripped bed and the general tidiness of the room that’s usually in such disarray. He checks the bathroom— so sparkling white, he thinks he might be able to eat off the floor. Eyes wide in awe and relaxation coursing through him, Ignis makes his way to the kitchen, heat flooding to his cheeks as he beholds the scene within. 

________ 

_Earlier that evening_

“Aw, hell yeah,” says Noctis, looking at his phone. “Iggy says he’ll be late tonight. Freeeedooooom,” he sings as he flops onto Prompto’s lap. 

“Oof, dude, watch it!” Prompto raises his arms, furiously button-mashing through the surprisingly difficult boss battle. “C’mon, just gotta get this ooooooone combo attack...” He bites his lip and leans forward, totally ignoring the prince on his lap. 

Noctis huffs and waits until he hears the ending battle music as Prompto pumps his fist in the air, flopping back against the couch. “Okay, hey, didja hear what I said?” He sits up and faces Prompto. 

“Huh?” Prompto turns to him, bright blue eyes shining with the thrill of his virtual victory. “Somethin’ about Iggy?” 

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Geez, you think with your massive crush on him, you’d be paying more attention.” 

Prompto’s face heats up like, _cartoonishly_ red and he sputters a rebuttal. “Dude, I—I _don’t_ have a crush on him! What the fuck!” 

Noctis just stares at this obvious liar he calls his best friend. “Okay, yeah sure. It’s totally normal to get bug-eyed around my stuffy adviser, to blush every time he talks to you, to go above and beyond being helpful in a desperate attempt for him to notice you,” he deadpans. “Did I miss anything?” 

“You’re totally not fair, man,” Prompto says in a small voice, defeated and called-out. “I can’t help it okay? I mean have you _seen_ him? Those _legs_ , that jawline—his _eyes...”_ Prompto sighs like a schoolgirl in love. “It was like he was built by the gods themselves.” 

Noctis rolls his eyes, because, _gross_ , this is Iggy, who might as well be his brother. Ignis has been with him since Noct was a child, but Prompto’s still fairly new to all the people in Noct’s inner circle. He also suspects he has a crush on about half the Kingsglaive, if Cor’s rumor mill is to be believed at all—and the way he talks about Gladio’s abs is way too reverent for comfort sometimes... but Noctis loves him anyway, figuring that the crushes will subside with time. Prompto’s just overwhelmed with all the pretty muscleheads in the military since joining the Crownsguard, like a bad porno. 

“Sorry you have poor vision, dude,” Prompto laughs. “I would climb that man like a tree if I had the chance.” 

Noctis snorts. “Who says you don’t have a chance? Ask him out. Pretty sure he’s been single his whole life.” 

Prompto gasps. “No _way_ , Iggy a virgin? Looking like _that_ ? You’re yankin’ my chain, buddy. No way that’s true.” He swallows hard, looking away. “Be...besides, y’know.” He shrugs. “This is _me_. I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.” 

Noctis just stares. “Why do you think that?” 

Prompto bites his lip and shakes his head. “C’mon, dude. Noct. This is Ignis we’re talking about. He could probably kill me twenty ways with just his pinky, which shouldn’t give me a boner, okay, but it does. He’s tall, and he knows _everything_ , and he can cook and drive, and he fights like a freakin’ badass, and he sits on the council and helps you with all your princey shit...” Prompto sighs again, lovestruck. “And then there’s me—awkward, dorky, a pleb who can barely do anything for himself, about a three compared to Iggy’s two hundred on the hotness scale.” 

Noctis shakes his head. “You’re definitely not a three,” he says honestly. “C’mon, you might be those things but you’re also pretty awesome in your own right! I’ve watched you in training, you’re getting better every day. And your photography—god tier, honestly. And you can cook more stuff than me.” 

Prompto huffs. “Right, ramen and eggs, what a meal.” 

“You’re not bad at crockpot shit.” 

“Still,” says Prompto, dead-set on providing reasons he’s unworthy. “I can’t--there’s no way I could ever ask him out. He’d laugh in my face, and then I’d have to move to Niflheim.” 

“You’re being so dramatic right now,” Noctis shrugs. “But whatever. Don’t listen to me, then.” 

Prompto pouts adorably and turns back to the game, proceeding to finish the small sidequest. When he saves and puts the game into rest mode fifteen minutes later, Noctis is dozing on the couch. Prompto’s eyes sweep over the messy apartment and he starts to come up with a plan that might endear Ignis to him a little more. 

_______ 

Prompto’s in the kitchen, phone playing some overly-saturated bubblegum pop song as he mops the white linoleum floor. The dishwasher is running, and the drying rack by the sink is full of even more clean plates and cups and pots. The thing is, the thing that’s making Ignis stand stock-still and red-faced, is that Prompto is very scantily clad—wearing just some athletic shorts that come to the tops of his slender thighs, and nothing else. Ignis guesses that he might’ve gotten sweaty doing all the housework, hence the reason for minimal clothing, but still—it doesn’t help his delicate constitution at all. Ignis won’t lie and say that he hasn’t thought about the younger man—he's the same age as Noctis, and Ignis is only two years older—but he’s been hesitant to put the moves on Noct’s only real, normal friend, the first one the prince made on his own who wasn’t on the king’s payroll. Ignis wants Noctis to have a normal life, and he’s already twisted around Noctis so much—so he’d been resigned to look from afar. 

Well, Ignis is looking now, watching that toned, freckled back and shoulders move with the effort of mopping, the backs of his legs and tight calves, the curve of his small ass in those obscene shorts, his surprisingly built arms that have only gotten stronger since picking up a gun in service to the crown. He coughs, causing Prompto to jump, placing a hand over his heart. Ignis tries and fails not to ogle his chest and abs, his lean hips, the happy trial of blond hair that teases below the elastic hemline of the sinful shorts. 

Prompto’s heart threatens to run straight out into downtown Insomnia when he whips around to see Ignis. He clutches the mop, feeling his cheeks heat up at being so exposed. He wills his dick to behave—there'd be no hiding an erection in this situation, and that’s the last thing Prompto needs right now. He swallows hard. “Heya Iggy!” 

Ignis’ eyes dart around the clean kitchen, finally settling back on Prompto’s flushed, freckled face. Ignis idly wonders if the boy’s hair is as soft as it looks. “Good evening, Prompto. I’m terribly sorry that I’ve arrived so late.” 

Prompto scoffs and waves his hand. “No worries dude! I think I got everything—sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, dishes, laundry. I haven’t put new sheets on Noct’s bed yet but I was gonna do that after I finished in here.” 

It’s then that Ignis notices another smell underneath all the cleaners. “Prompto, are you...cooking something?” As cute as Prompto is, Ignis is slightly worried about having to use the fire extinguisher when anyone else except he or Gladio use the prince’s appliances. 

Prompto laughs, loud and bright, and Ignis wishes he could bottle it up. “Oh, yeah! Uh, I hope you don’t mind me using some of Noct’s food, but I found a pretty easy crockpot recipe for some chicken tortilla soup. It’s Noct-approved, too. The secret is crushed tomatoes, so he won’t have to chew them.” 

Ignis, usually reserved and armed with dry humor around Prompto, suddenly breaks out into a full-bellied laugh at the blond’s hack of Noct’s picky palate. He wipes a few tears from his eyes and smiles big and genuine at Noct’s friend. “Your efforts tonight are much appreciated, Prompto. I cannot believe you’ve done all this housework yourself.” 

Prompto shrugs, blushing even harder and looking down at his bare feet. “Nah, it’s no problem, Igster! You know I’m always looking to burn off some energy. Plus, I know how hard you work, and I... I just wanted to be helpful, um. To you, and uh. Stuff.” Prompto’s goblin brain quickly files an Error 404 message and goes on the fritz, so he bites his tongue, figuring he’s said too much already. 

Ignis feels his own cheeks grow warm at Prompto’s cute nickname, and suddenly there’s a tightness in his chest. “Rest assured, you need not have lifted a finger—but nevertheless, I am deeply grateful.” Ignis walks over to the simmering slow cooker and lifts the lid, his nose assaulted with hints of cilantro and cumin. He takes a ladle from the utensil bucket on the counter and tastes it—it's actually not that bad, he thinks. Maybe a little more salt is needed, but—he turns back to Prompto, who’s staring him down like a hungry apex predator. He watches in rapture as the lanky blond licks his lips absently—Ignis wonders how _that_ would taste. 

“It’s uh—edible?” Prompto laughs as he quickly decides the mopping is finished, opening the utility closet and shoving it back inside after peeling off the wet, dirty pad and trashing it. 

“It’s quite good, Prompto. Perhaps a pinch more salt, is all.” 

Prompto avoid his gaze and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah I went easy on the salt cause I was wasn’t sure...you can add more, or, y’know whatever else you think it needs. But uh. I’m glad it turned out okay.” Prompto fidgets. 

Ignis smiles at him, even though the poor boy isn’t even making eye contact. “More than okay, Prompto. Your selflessness is overwhelming. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“Nah,” says Prompto, finally daring to look Ignis in the eyes again. “No worries dude. I’m happy to help. I’m over here a lot anyways, so...” 

Ignis nods and crosses over to the fridge, opening it and the freezer to assess what’s left after Prompto’s soup endeavor. To his amazement, the freezer is stocked full of meat and pre-cut vegetables, along with some healthier ice cream choices and some organic pizzas. The fridge is filled with eggs and lunchmeat, milk, healthy sports drinks, water, and only one pack of soda—allowable—as well as some fresh veggies and other necessary foods that Ignis had been sure Noct was out of. Ignis shuts the fridge and checks the cabinets and pantry—it's all full: bread, pasta, cereal, canned goods, baking ingredients, spices. Ignis can’t think of one thing that’s missing. He turns to Prompto, wide-eyed. 

The blond still looks like an adorable chocobo in headlights. “What’s up Iggy?” 

“Did you...Prompto, did you go _shopping_?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah! See, I thought the grocery stores might be closed by the time you got here, so I just logged into Noct’s account online earlier and refilled the cart with everything you bought last time, plus some stuff that I thought you or Noct might like. I bought more cleaning stuff, and like, toilet paper, and the shampoo and deodorant Noct said he was out of. And I uh. Had it delivered.” 

The words leave Ignis’ mouth so fast, he doesn’t have time to think twice. “Prompto, I could kiss you.” 

And Prompto, feeling vulnerable and stupid as usual, responds without missing a beat: “I wish you would.” 

The air between them is charged, so tense and thick that you could cut it with one of Ignis’ daggers. The two men stare at each other, each not sure if they heard the other clearly, imaginations going wild and brains trying desperately to keep up with what’s happening. 

“What,” says Ignis. 

“What!” squeaks Prompto. “I, uh! Nothin’ Iggy! I’ll just, um. See if the laundry’s done. Um. Yeah!” And with that, Prompto spins on his heel and prepares to make a mad dash for the tiny laundry room, but Ignis is faster, catching him by his (really hard, _wow_ ) bicep and yanking him back around. 

Prompto crashes against Ignis’ chest and doesn’t even try to wiggle away. Ignis’ strong arms hold him in place, flush against the taller man, and Prompto prays to any god who might be listening that his dick behaves itself so close to the man he’s infatuated with. He looks up into Iggy’s eyes, only partially dulled by hiding behind his glasses. Prompto has a thought, and then-- 

Ignis stays frozen as Prompto slowly reaches up and places his hands tenderly on his silver frames, lifting them from his face and placing them with one hand on the nearby kitchen counter. Prompto’s hands then move to cup each cheek, and Ignis struggles to breathe. 

“Your eyes are so incredible, Iggy,” Prompto whispers like a prayer. “Just...stunning. Not that you don’t look good with glasses—shit, you look good in everything, but...I wish I could see them like this more often.” 

Ignis can’t help but give in. After all, Prompto got to have a little of what he wants, so why can’t it be vice-versa? Ignis leans down and presses his lips to Prompto’s, smiling inwardly as the blond gasps and melts into him like Ignis hoped he would. Prompto’s clearly nervous, following Ignis’ pace with hesitation, mostly just focused on keeping his lips open for Ignis to explore. As always, he’s so selfless, and Ignis wonders just how much he can teach Prompto about the art of kissing. 

When he pulls away, Ignis is pleased to see Prompto’s freckled face as red as a Leiden tomato, freckles dark under the blush, violet-blue eyes blown wide with lust and anticipation, and—he sets his hand on Prompto’s lower back, revelling in how the blond’s skin feels under his fingertips, and pulls Prompto’s hips forward, gasping as he feels his hardness. 

“Wait--Iggy—I'm--” Prompto tries to stutter, but Ignis just leans down to devour him again, and takes the liberty of running his hand over Prompto’s ribs, eager to drink in his soft moans as he teases the elastic band of the shorts and dips his fingers beneath it, finding Prompto’s throbbing length. 

Prompto shudders with a loud cry into Ignis’ mouth, jerking his hips against Ignis as the older man gives him the best—okay, the only—handjob of his short little life. Ignis is relentless in kissing away all of Prompto’s coherent thoughts as he teases Prompto’s cock, fondling his heavy balls and stroking him long and slow, using Prompto’s own sticky pre-cum as a crude lubricant. 

“ _Iggy_ ,” Prompto whines as Ignis finally releases his mouth and trails soft kisses down his bare neck. He’s never been so hard. If this is a dream, if he passed out on Noct’s kitchen floor while doing the dishes, well—he never wants to wake up. He can’t last, not with Iggy’s long fingers mapping him out with practiced expertise. He bucks his hips hard as Ignis sucks a bruise onto his collarbone, and then with a strangled cry, he’s coming in his shorts, all over Ignis’ perfect hand, the advisor’s other arm supporting him. 

“Damn,” says Prompto, desperately holding onto the taller man. “I would've done the shopping and the cleaning a long time ago if this is how it could’ve ended up.” He gazes into Ignis’ deep emerald eyes, boneless and sated and in love. “I, uh. Iggy, I...” 

“You don’t have to say anything, darling,” Ignis purrs. “Our feelings are mutual, correct?” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” says Prompto. “Super correct. You’ve never been more right in your fuckin’ _life_.” 

Ignis laughs and withdraws his wet, sticky hand. To Prompto’s amazement, he licks it clean, keeping eye contact with Prompto the whole time. 

“You’re so hot,” Prompto whines. “It’s not even fair. I can’t compete.” 

“I could say the same thing about you,” says Ignis as he kisses Prompto’s forehead. 

Prompto grows bold and places his hands on Iggy’s hips, pulling Ignis closer against him—and that’s when he feels it. “Hey Igster, that a dagger in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” 

Ignis laughs, and Prompto follows, yelping in surprise as the advisor sweeps him off his feet and carries him like a princess to the spare bedroom. Prompto can’t wait to be even more helpful to Ignis tonight—and hopefully, for a long time afterward, too. 


End file.
